


Forbidden Fruit

by EllanaSan



Series: Hayffie Aus [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Supernatural
Genre: Aka Haymitch is a hunter, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Demon!Effie, Demon!Snow, F/M, Hunter!Haymitch, There is no actual appearance of supernatural chara even though a few are mentionned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3198203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Euphemia should have made the deal, all those months ago, but she hadn’t. She refused to deal with drunk people, she had claimed it was rude to steal their souls unaware. She was a business woman, or so she said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forbidden Fruit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allonsysilvertongue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/gifts).



> No knowledge of the TV show is necessary to understand it even though I put some small references into it.  
> Watch out for Allonsysilvertongue’s Supernatural AU that should come soon. It will contains angel!Effie and I have a feeling it is going to be awesome!

The bar wasn’t crowded but it was loud due to a table of partying young men in one corner. They were making enough noise for all the other patrons staring at their glasses with a morose expression.

Haymitch wasn’t an exception.

He twirled his glass slowly, watching the last drops of the awful whiskey splotch this way and that, wishing the Roadhouse was still standing. There had been no remaining anonymous in Ellen’s bar – everyone there was in the hunting business one way or another – but, at least, there was no partying group of kids either. He needed another case, he mused, something easier than the wendigo he had been tracking and that had almost gutted him earlier in the night. He needed a ghost or a fang, perhaps, something he could still handle.

Chaff kept saying he needed to retire, settle down and open a sort of hunter base like Bobby Singer had in South Dakota. Help the younger generation. Haymitch almost snorted at that. Once a hunter, always a hunter. He would never be happy to sit on his ass all day, dispatching new cases to rookies who would die quicker than it took to try a _Christo_. He would be drunk all day probably. Very, very drunk.

And Chaff could talk. He had lost a hand in a hunt a few years ago and he was still out there.

Haymitch didn’t look up when the guys started whistling and cat calling even if he glimpsed some of the other lonely patrons glancing appreciatively at the newcomer. He didn’t look even when he felt the presence hovering behind his shoulder.

“Is this seat taken?”

The voice was high-pitched with a strong British accent. _Annoying_.

“Knock yourself out.” he mumbled, gesturing to the bartender that he wanted a refill.

She _was_ pretty – too pretty for a shit-hole like this one, probably a girl who wanted a thrill. Wild blond curls fell on her shoulders, bright blue eyes that immediately enthralled him, full lips, a tight black dress that flattered her already attractive features…

“This one is on me.” she told the man behind the bar.

Haymitch sighed and pushed back the crumpled notes she was handing. “Look, sweetheart, I’m not interested.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say, Haymitch.” she pouted. “And here I spent _hours_ looking for the perfect… outfit.”

He startled at the sound of his name but it was nothing compared to when her eyes flickered black for a second.

“Euphemia.” he spat. He _hoped_ it was Euphemia. As far as demons went, she was the only one who didn’t seem to want him dead.

She flashed him a dangerous smile. “You should say hello, you know. It’s only polite.”

“What do you want?” he growled, bringing his newly full glass to his lips.

“A margarita wouldn’t go amiss.” she joked.

He glared, torn between telling her to go back to hell and finding out what had made her track him all the way to the shadiest bar in Minnesota. In the end, he ordered her a drink. She sipped from it, turning the stool away from the bar so she could watch the room. She crossed her legs with deliberate slowness and Haymitch didn’t have to look to know all the men in the bar were staring. It was difficult to tell what she enjoyed more : the attention or knowing she could kill them all in a matter of seconds. Although knowing that particular demon, she probably loved being at the center of attention more than anything.

“You _do_ realize I will exorcise you before you leave, right?” he snorted. “Where did you find that poor girl?”

“In the intensive care ward of the nearest hospital.” she replied. “She’s brain dead. I know your tastes by now.”

That sounded _so_ wrong…

“I think I will keep her.” she hummed. “I like the body. It suits me. What do you say?”

She waited for his answer, chewing on her bottom lip as if they were just discussing a dress she had picked up in a shop.

“You’re disgusting.” he spat.

She rolled her eyes. “She’s dead. It was empty. I’m not hurting anyone.”

There was a touch of reproach in her tone. He wondered if she was actually expecting him to congratulate her for not causing pain. Then again, she was a demon, maybe he should.

“So, do you like it?” she insisted.

“What if I don’t?” he snapped. “You’re going to find another comatose meat suit?”

She lowered her eyes and swallowed. “I’m trying to do this right, Haymitch. It’s not exactly easy for me, would you please play along?”

“And what is it you’re trying to do, sweetheart?” he sneered. “’Cause aside for spoiling my already lousy night…”

She stared at him for a second and then she shrugged. “I can give you Snow.”

His hand clenched the glass so hard it would have shattered if she hadn’t pried it away from his fingers. He let her, disgusted with himself for not loathing her touch like he did other demons. Their relationship – if you could call that an acquaintance between a hunter and a demon – had been odd from the start. He had met her at a crossroad, very drunk, ready to make a deal and lose his soul if it meant getting his hands around Snow’s throat.

It had taken him years to figure out who Snow was and where he was on the demon’s hierarchy. It had become a lot easier when the Winchester had screwed up one time too many and kick-started the apocalypse they were about to face. Nobody cared about demons like Snow and the few demons Haymitch had managed to capture and… _interrogate_ were forthcoming with answers. He had never found out why Snow had felt like murdering his whole family – it might have been a random kill, no matter how utterly destroyed it had left Haymitch – but he was determined to have his answers from the demon before giving him what he deserved.

Euphemia should have made the deal, all those months ago, but she hadn’t. She refused to deal with drunk people, she had claimed it was rude to steal their souls unaware. She was a business woman, or so she said, she had sent him back to his motel room.

He hadn’t thought he would see her again at the time but Euphemia was a peculiar demon and she had taken an interest in him. She had showed up once or twice when he had picked up a fight with a monster too strong for him, too drunk to care much about getting himself killed. She had cleaned him up and helped him to bed a lot of times on those occasions but he never lingered on that. He had started chanting the exorcism each and every time while she wasn’t looking. Sometimes she disappeared before he was done, sometimes she let him. _Peculiar_.

She always looked different but she was always hot. He always ended up staring at her lips no matter how wrong it was, how _disgusting_ it made him.

Brain dead meat suits were easier to deal with. It wasn’t like he was prying on a poor woman trapped inside her own head if Euphemia was possessing a comatose patient. It was still wrong and disgusting but he could deal with that.

“Don’t mess with me, Effie.” he warned in a growl.

“I like it when you call me Effie.” she smiled and it was genuine, completely out of place on a demon’s face. She sobered quickly. “I am completely serious. I have been trying to arrange a meeting for some time now. Snow isn’t an easy man to contact.” She saw him cringe and rolled her eyes. “Figure of speech, Haymitch. He isn’t an easy _demon_ to contact, if you insist on semantics. You’re in luck, though, rumor is Crowley wants him out of the picture and Crowley is _very_ influent. Long story short, Snow will meet me in a disaffected hangar two miles from here two nights from now.”

His heart was racing in his chest.

“He is cunning and _very_ prudent, though. I was thinking demon traps on the ceiling and the walls…” she continued. “Of course, that means I will be trapped too but you can let me out later.”

“Or I could take advantage and deal with you too.” he snorted. “You’re certainly a pain in my ass.”

“I trust you.” she declared, waving his threat away. “Now, Haymitch, this is _really_ important. You need to _kill_ Snow, not just exorcise him. If you send him back to hell, it might take him some time before he comes back but he _will_ come after us.”

Killing a demon was a hard thing to do… Almost impossible…

“The Winchesters have a knife.” she prompted. “And there is the colt, of course, but the colt…”

“Is lost.” Haymitch finished for her. “If that’s a trap to get the knife back…”

“Please.” she scoffed. “Lilith sent it to them. If we wanted the knife back…” She frowned and sighed, clearly irritated. “You said you wanted Snow. I’m giving you Snow. Why is it so hard for you to trust me?”

“Because you’re a demon?” he chuckled, taking a sip of whiskey. She looked pained at that. He didn’t like hurting her. Wasn’t that a sobering thought… He could give Bobby a call, find out where the Winchesters were and bargain for their help… He knew the brothers were in hiding but Chaff was good friends with Rufus and Rufus was close to Bobby… It could work. And he didn’t have much of a choice anyway. “We should close the deal. You give me Snow, no funny business, no traps.” He wondered if he would feel different once she had claimed his soul. “How long will I have after that?”

“Your whole life.” she shrugged. “I don’t want your soul. Not in that sense anyway.”

He searched her eyes but couldn’t find any trace of treachery in there. It didn’t mean anything of course, she was, after all, soulless herself.

“Why?” he asked. “Demons always want something.”

“Because I like you.” she offered. “As for what I want… I don’t want it to be owed to me. I want it to be freely given.”

“Demons don’t _like_.” he spat. He didn’t let himself wonder what it was she wanted. He had a good idea. All her lingering touches, the way she looked at him… How sick was he to want exactly the same thing knowing what she was? He had never seen her actually hurt anyone – not anyone _human_ anyway – and that was why it was so hard to see the monster underneath the angelic mask, he figured.

“Don’t be obnoxious. Of course, we like.” she countered. “We _love_ even. Some love pain, some love hatred, some love evil….”

“If you say you love me, I’m going to exorcise you right here, right now.” he threatened.

She brushed a hand against his cheek and he wondered what it said about him that he didn’t even flinch. He wasn’t scared of her touch, he wasn’t scared _of her_. If her behavior was a convoluted plot, he had fallen in the trap a while ago.

“You should shave.” she declared, placing her empty glass down and standing up in one swift move. “Thank you for the drink. I will see you in two days.”

He grabbed her wrist before she could walk away. “Don’t you seal deals with a kiss?”

“This _isn’t_ a deal, Haymitch.” she sighed. “This is a favor.”

He tugged on her arm until she stumbled closer. She could probably break him in two without batting an eyelash but she still looked small and fragile. Appearances were deceitful.

“Seal the _favor_ then, sweetheart.” he challenged.

With him sitting down and her heels, she was taller than him. Her hands were tentative when they brushed the hair out of his face. He wondered how many times she had stolen a poor guy’s soul that way. He wondered why he was so special to her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, she gently nudged his head back and he stopped wondering. Her lips were cold but they grew warmer when his mouth started working on them, his arms wrapped around her frame, one of his hands wandering lower… She slapped it away without ending the kiss.

“You don’t grope a lady in public, Haymitch.” she hissed, capturing his bottom lip between her teeth.

“Yeah, well ladies don’t kiss like that in public either.” he retorted.

“What will it be when we’re alone then?” she teased.

One second she was there, the next she was gone.

He was left staring at thin air and turned back to his glass, ignoring the drunken stuttering questions around him.

It was easy to understand how Man had bitten the fruit when the devil was so attractive.


End file.
